


Dragons and Antivan Princesses

by SecretSaver



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol Usage, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3129239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretSaver/pseuds/SecretSaver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the scene in the game where the Inquisitor drinks with Iron Bull after defeating their first dragon. Elven Inquisitor wonders in drunk on Lady Montilyet as she's finishing up for the night. Minor fluff. Awfully written because I pumped it out at 4am. I do not claim credit to the scene where Bull and the Inquisitor are drinking, the dialogue was taken from the game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

                The sun was just setting over Skyhold and the Inquisitor’s crew had returned from a very long day in the Hinterlands. Lady Lavellan had decided that they were strong enough to conquer the Fereldan Frostback and conquered was she indeed. Iron Bull retreated to the tavern while Sera and Varric went to rest their weary limbs. Our inquisitor decided to wash off the grit before meeting Bull for a drink in what he called a celebration. Bull simply laughed when she explained this to him.

                “While you wash off the evidence of our amazing victory I will wear it in proud display!” He roared.

                “Best tell the tavern,” replied Varric. “They’re going to need more than soap to get that stench out once he’s done.”

                “He may earn himself a new nickname while he’s at it.” Sera smiled, a thousand names already reeling in her head.

                “Yeah, names like Iron Bull: Dragon Slayer of Thedas.”

                “Quite a mouthful, Bull,” spoke the Herald.

                “ _Stinky_ Bull more like,” Sera giggled.      

 

                The Inquisitor smiled in thought as she wiped dirt off of her legs with a rag. She was thinking about their little exchange of their return to Skyhold. She loved them, all of them Bull, Sera, Varric, Cassandra, Cole, Cullen, Leliana, Josephine—oh maker especially Josephine—, everyone was dear to her in this fortress. To think it was only a few months ago that Cassandra was accusing her of the explosion and the opening of the Breach, and now it was her who was dubbed the title of Inquisitor. Granted, she was more of a figurehead in this huge operation; the Advisors did more work than they like to give credit to themselves, Lady Lavellan only went out into the field to speak for them and decide the priorities.

                Sighing, she stood from the brass-colored tub. She was thinking about work again when she should be thinking about celebrating the dragon slaying tonight. The Inquisitor grabbed a towel to dry her body. Something on the towel caught her eye. Lifting the corner up to examine it, she laughed. “Why, they even embroidered the inquisition emblem on the _towels_.” No doubt done by one of Vivienne’s connections in Val Royeaux. Quickly, she fitted herself with a clean pair of clothes and dashed out toward Herald’s Rest.

               

                Bull was quick to spot in the back of the tavern. Lavellan quietly sat down next to him with her familiar smirk.

                “Inquisitor!” Bull said a little too loudly, giving clue to how much drink he’s consumed already. “Come have a drink!” He poured the dark liquid into a mug for her. “To killing a high dragon like warriors of legend!”

                Its smell was as pungent as Iron Bull himself. “What exactly am I supposed to be drinking, Bull?” Her light Dalish accent innocently questioned.

                “Maraas-Lok.”

                “And what does that mean?”

                “It means drink! How are we supposed to celebrate a dragon killing when the slayer of dragons herself won’t partake of the fruits?”

                “To killing a high dragon like warriors of legend, then!” She caved. Bull’s natural morale boosting was working its magic. Who knew that the Iron Bull would be an excellent drinking buddy? As she lifted the mug, she could see the approval in her friend’s eyes before the lip shielded her vision from him. The liquid went down her throat fighting as tough as the beast they fought today. Her eyes watered while she sputtered and coughed trying to regain herself.

                Bull couldn’t help but laugh. “I know, right? Put some chest on your chest.” His eyes glazed over as he recalled the battle, a smirk on his lips as he described it to the young elf. “That little gurgle right before it spat fire? And that roar. What I wouldn’t give to roar like that. The way the ground shook when it landed. The smell of the fires burning…Taarsidath-an halsaam. You know Qunari hold dragons sacred? Well, as much as we hold anything sacred.” He poured more of the drink into the Inquisitor’s mug. “Here, your turn.”

                “That thing you just said. You shouted it during the fight, too. What does it mean?” Lavellan blinked away her tears, her voice recovered.

                “Oh, Taarsidath-an Halsaam? Closest translation would be, ‘I will bring myself sexual pleasure later, while thinking about this with great respect.’”

                “You shouted _that_ while it was breathing fire at us?”

                “I know, right?” He grunted, cuing her to take another drink with him.

                The second drink was only slightly easier. The Inquisitor didn’t cough for as long, but the tears still formed and a blush was growing on her cheeks.

                Bull shook his head and smiled. “Yeah! The second cup’s easier. Most of the nerves in your through are dead after the first one.” He leaned in closer. “Atashi. ‘The Glorious Ones.’ That’s our word for them. Ataaaaaaasheeeeee.”

                “Oh? And why do the Qunari think of dragons that way?”

                “Well, you know how we have horns? We kind of look more…dragonly…than most people. Maybe it’s that,” he shrugged. “But a few of the Ben-Hassrath have this crazy old theory. See, the tamassrans control who we mate with. They breed us for jobs like you’d breed dogs or horses. What if they mixed in some dragon a long time ago? Maybe drinking the blood, maybe the magic. I don’t know. But something in that dragon we killed…spoke to me.”

                “It’s a shame we had to kill the dragon.”

                “Damn good fight. Dragons are the embodiment of raw power. But it’s all uncontrolled, savage…” Bull poured yet another drink. “So they need to be destroyed. Taming the wild. Order of chaos. Have another drink.”

                Lavellan did as directed and surprisingly only coughed once this time as the drink went down. A warmth radiated from her body and made her glow. The two laughed together.

                “Nice! To dragons!” Bull roared, swallowing his drink whole.

                Completely drunk now, The Inquisitor lifted her mug. “To finding the biggest, baddest things in the world and showing them that we’re badder.”

                “Anaan!”

 

                The Inquisitor didn’t even remember the walk from the tavern back to the great hall, all she knew was that she was following the starlit sparkles in her drunken stupor. She was on her way to visit Josephine, whose name she probably wouldn’t be able to pronounce due to her current state. Lavellan fumbled with the first door, but discovered its tricks and easily marched through the second one—or was it already open? Regardless she met her destination. There she was. Sitting at her desk writing a few letters last minute this late at night.

                “Oh, there you are my little Antivan princess,” The Inquisitor sang. “Here I am, I’ve slayed the dragon and I have come to rescue my one and only…” She paused, trying to find the word. “Love. My one and only love.”

                Josephine raised an eyebrow. She placed her quill into its holder and capped her ink well. It looked as if she wasn't going to get anymore work done tonight. “It seems as though you’re the one that needs rescuing, oh dragon slayer.” The ambassador stood and walked out from behind her desk.

                “I…no it. It is how the fairy tales go. The knight in shining armor is the one who slaves—slays the dragon and recks—rescues the princess. It’s a happy ever after.” Speech was difficult thanks to the multiple drinks.

                “Darling,” Josephine took another step towards the elf. She was now close enough to see the drunken blush on her face and smell the stench of drink on her breath. “Who did you go drinking with tonight?”

                “None other than The Bull of Iron,” She giggled in the arms of Josephine.

                “Ugh, I’ll kill him,” She rolled her eyes but turned her attention back to her love. She placed her hands on each side of Lavellan’s face. “We best get you someplace where you can’t hurt yourself or break anything.”

                The elf leaned her cheek into her hand. Her cool fingertips felt soothing against her heated skin. She closed her eyes and was quieted by Josephine’s touch. This moment made the Ambassador pause. Even though this elf smelled strongly of alcohol, and could hardly compose a sentence or maintain balance, she was still as charming as ever. The Inquisitor pulled one of her hands from her cheek down to her neck, which was even warmer. She hummed in pleasure. “Bull gave me a drink I swear was made from the blood of the dragon we slayed. The first sip, I could feel it clawing its way down my throat. Tell me, princess, am I breathing fire?”

                “No, Lavellan, but you’re burning up from drinking, please come with me.”

 

                They were in the Inquisitor’s chambers now. It took a little persuading but Josephine was finally able to get her into bed. She had sent someone to bring up some food while Josephine herself fetched some cold water for the Inquisitor to drink and cool her forehead.

                Josephine was placing a wet rag on her brow as the two waited for someone to get back with some food. “So, my knight, tell me about the dragon battle.”

                The elf’s eyes were closed, but she smiled wide, teeth shining. “Well, it was me, Varric, Sera, and Bull today. So we get there and Bull _insists_ that he goes down there to distract the beast while we go after it from afar. Oh, he was amazing, Josephine. He climbed up on the tail and for a while couldn’t be shaken off, but then the dragon decided that she was going to take flight. Varric and Bianca were amazing, too. I’ve never seen so many arrows in my life; Sera, Varric, and I pumped so many arrows into the beast that you could hardly see the dragon when we killed it! Haha!” She sighed, opening her eyes. “It’s too bad we had to kill it though.”

                “We live in a strange time, Lavellan. Blights, wars, rifts, dragons. Perhaps one day we will understand everything better, even dragons.”

                There was a knock at the door. “That must be your food, Inquisitor.” The woman stood to retrieve it from the person. “Thank you, that should be all for tonight,” Josephine said softly. Barely disturbing the bed, she returned with the platter.

                “Smells great,” the elf inhaled. “Are you going to have some too? You must be starving after working so hard tonight.”

                “I suppose I could have some. But you must eat most of it. I hear that the best way to combat drunkenness is having a full stomach…however it’s mostly done before drinking. Maybe it will still work.”

                So they ate until they were full and sleepy. Lady Lavellan spoke more of dragons and other creatures that her and her comrades have encountered so far on their journey. The two cuddled together for warmth under the blankets. Skyhold was always so cold, even when the fireplace had been lit all day.

                “Is this dragon the most majestic of creatures that you have encountered in all of Thedas?” Josephine whispered, a warm puff of her breath brushing against Lavellan’s face.

                The other gave it a thought. “No,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “The most majestic creature has got to be you, Lady Montilyet.”

                “Oh,” the Ambassador giggled. She caressed the Inquisitor’s face with her cool hands again but this time she placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Good night my knight in shining armor.”

 

The sunlight filtered in through the giant windows of the chamber. The young elf rolled over and opened her eyes to an empty bedside. Frowning, she lifted herself out of bed. Her head throbbed in protest. A groan was pushed from her throat, which was sore from last night’s drinking. The Inquisitor turned to make her bead, when she noticed an arrow with a note tied to it lodged in the headboard, obviously Sera’s workings.

                The letter was a crude drawing of what looked like Iron Bull with stink lines, a dragon with her head chopped off, a tower with Lady Montilyet in it, and the Inquisitor below the tower with a sword in her hand. Sera, of course, was wearing the dragon head and giving a middle finger. Under the drawing was a small message saying “Knight in shining armour, yeah? Wait until the rest hear about this.” Lavellan rolled her eyes, she was never going to hear the end of it. Below the message was a p.s. “Here are some new nicknames for the Bull. Lemme know what ya think, right?

       Stinky Bull  
                Iron Turd  
                Iron Poo Smelly Bull  
                and my personal favorite: Bull Shite”

                A soft laugh escaped the Inquisitor’s lips as she finished the note. Another thing in the room caught her eye. There was a small breakfast and a nicely folded note on an intricate platter. This had Josephine written all over it. The elf decided to eat as she read. The ambassador’s handwriting was so pleasing to look at alone.

                “Lavellan, my love,  
                Last night was charming, however do try to avoid drinking with Iron Bull again. I hope you enjoy the breakfast. I’m afraid rumours of you and I have reached the Montilyet household and they seem to be asking numerous questions about you and the Inquisition. I have arranged for us to meet my mother and father, but you shall need to be prepped before we leave. Fighting that dragon seems a hundred times easier than meeting my parents now, hm?  
                 Your Antivan Princess,  
                 Josephine”

The inquisitor almost choked on her eggs when she read the bit about meeting Josephine’s parents. A heavy feeling greeted her stomach and she reached for a bucket.

 


	2. Duels and Dirtbags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nervous elf Inquisitor gets ready for Josephine's briefing when unexpected news of a betrothal arrives. Looks like the introduction to the Montilyets may be permanently delayed when the Herald challenges the fiance to a duel. More scenes taken from the game, so I do not claim ownership aside from ad lib.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My readers wanted a sequel? Well, they're getting a trilogy! Part two of the third installment. I noticed halfway through writing this chapter that if I wanted to include a parent discussion, that it will need to be made into a whole separate chapter with the way the plot was going. I hope you enjoy and wish you patience as I begin writing the third chapter. Excuse any errors (as always) because apparently my writing time is four in the morning. On another note I hate this formatting the double spacing is killing me.

               -

                The Inquisitor stood just outside of Lady Montilyet’s office door with a lump in her throat and sweat on her brow. She had reason to be nervous, as Josephine was going to brief her on how to act around her parents. At the moment, she was trying to gather up the courage to open the door. She would much rather fight the ghost of the angry dragon she killed. Maybe Solas could arrange something.

                Suddenly, the door started to peel open by itself. The elf’s eyes widened in panic. Out from behind the door appeared a messenger of Josephine’s.

                “Oh, Inquisitor,” said the dwarf. “Josephine’s was just about to send for you actually. Uh…you might want to prepare yourself.”

                “I know.” The inquisitor placed her hand on the handle.

                “No, you don’t.” The dwarf woman left the Inquisitor with nothing but a puzzled look to her face. What does she mean ‘I don’t’? The elf pushed through the door.

                Josephine spun around immediately after she entered. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I’ve just received the most terrible news.” Her eyes were watery, she looked as if she might cry.

                “What is it?”

                She looked around as if she were revealing a secret. Josephine took a deep breath and closed her eyes before speaking. “I’m engaged.”  
The elf looked at Josephine in complete astonishment, but she took a moment to reassess the situation. “There seems to be more to this, start from the beginning.”

                She turned and sighed in frustration, the sleeves rustling as her arms crossed. “For the past year, my mother and father have searched Antiva for a match for me. They had no idea that we had grown so close until recent. Today, I received a letter declaring they’ve betrothed me to Lord Adorno Ciel Otranto of Antiva.” Lady Montilyet said his name as if she were rolling her eyes with her mouth. “I must deal with this. But until then, we cannot be seen in a compromising situation. I’m so sorry.

                “Is there anything I can do, Josephine?”

                Another sigh. “No. Thank you so much, but no. Until I know more, I cannot risk your reputation. Why did this have to happen to us now, of all times?” The Lady shook her head and brushed her hair back. “I must see to this. And to my other duties. If I can keep my mind on them today at all!” She began to walk back over to her desk.

                “But Jose—“

                “Inquisitor—“She cut herself off before she sounded too harsh. “I’m afraid untangling my engagement will take some time.”

                “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” She pleaded.

                “He is Antivan. The only acceptable thing to do would be to challenge him to a duel for my favor.” She sounded as if the Inquisitor was incapable of doing such a task. Did she need to be reminded that she took out a dragon? Granted, it was with three other companions, but a dragon is equivalent to 60 bandits. There was no doubt that she could win at a duel.

                “Fine. I’ll challenge him to a duel.”

                “I was being facetious! No. You simply cannot challenge him.”

                “I wouldn’t have to kill him, would I?”

                The elf earned another sigh from Josephine. “The traditional form of dueling among Antivan nobles isn’t usually fatal, but there’s always a chance of harm. I hardly wish to see you skewered on a swordpoint for the sake of my honor.” She looked at the rug and placed a finger on her temple.

                “Alright, alright.” It was the elf’s turn to sigh this time. “Just don’t wear yourself out about all this, okay Josephine?”

                “Don’t worry, I’ve been through worse.”

                I should be saying that, thought the inquisitor. “May I have a hug before I go? I don’t know when I will be able to touch you again…”

                “Oh,” her expression softened. She took a step forward and wrapped her arms around the elf’s lower back. “You saying that makes everything seem much more real. I am so sorry, Lavellan.”

                “Don’t be. You had nothing to do with this.” She placed a hand on the ambassador’s neck. They touched their foreheads together softly as neither were in the mood for a kiss. The two stayed like that before they set off to their duties again. By the Maker, she would fight a thousand dragons for Lady Montilyet, surely she could challenge _Lord Adorno Ciel Otronto of Antiva_. Hah. The inquisitor turned down the hall towards Commander Cullen to arrange a plan.

-

                There was a knock at the Commander’s door. “Door’s open,” he replied to the sound. The man was busy fingering through some paperwork Josephine had given him yesterday.

                “Commander,” The Inquisitor said abruptly. “I need a favor.”

                “Uh-oh.” He looked up from his table. “I do not like the sound of that.”

                “You and me both.” The elf placed her hands atop the desk. “Josephine has informed me that she’s recently been engaged.”

                Shock painted his pale face. “What?”

                “Could you possibly send someone to inform Lord Adorno Ciel Otronto of Antiva that I officially challenge him to a duel for Lady Montilyet’s favor?”

                Cullen blinked. “If…that’s what you want. Are you sure you want to go through with this, Inquisitor? A duel is a rather serious event.”

                The elven woman rolled her eyes. She’s never questioned on her decisions when regarding the paths of the Inquisition, why do they do this now? “Cullen. I have fought demons, darkspawn, bandits, giants, and dragons. I think I can handle an Antivan Noble.”

                “Alright,” he exhaled. “I’ll send someone as soon as possible.”

                “Thank you.” She bowed her head in thanks before exiting. She paused at the doorway. “Could you…try not to let this slip to Josephine? She’d be furious if she found out.”

                “I suppose. But you have to help me out when I find a girl of my own.” He winked.

                That night, The Inquisitor slept lightly. Her reeling thoughts of the duel had sent her into a strange dream about the challenge. In the dream, she had arrived at Lord Ortonto’s estate. There was tasteful mockery exchanged before the fight when suddenly the man turned into a giant right before her eyes. She had smirked, only to draw a sword and cut off the beast’s head in one swipe. The Inquisitor brought the head back to her Lady.

                “What is _that_ ,” She shrieked.

                “That,” the elf had tossed the grotesque face onto the cold, stone floor. “Is the crown of your fiancé.”

                Josephine had gasped. “Thank the Maker that I do not have to marry such a beast anymore!”

                The Herald awoke with a smile on her face and a knock on her door. Springing from her bead, she answered it.

                “Uh, courier in the courtyard for you, ser. Cullen said I should tell you right away.”

                “Thank you,” nodded the woman. She immediately suited up and went to greet the messenger.

                The young elf looked around as she stepped foot into Val Royeaux’s capital. Ribbons and draperies decorated the city. Everything seemed so normal as nobles bustled about gossiping and shopping on the clear, sunny day. Great day for a duel, remarked the Inquisitor to herself. She had to admit, she was a tad nervous. What if this lord was the size of Iron Bull?

                A dark man approached her. He was a serious looking man with mountainous eyebrows. His eyes seemed to stare right through the elf. He threw his arm across his chest in greeting. “I am Lord Otranto of Antiva, rightfully betrothed of Lady Josephine Montilyet.”

                The Inquisitor rolled her eyes. ‘Rightfully betrothed’? _Nobles_. However, she showed interest in this man and waited for more to unfold.

                “Songs of your exploits have spread to my city, Inquisitor. It’s humbling to make your acquaintance.” Otranto tossed a rapier to the elf.

                “It’s a shame we meet on such serious terms, Lord Otranto,” she expressed coolly.

                The Orlesians began to gather at the scene. This was going to be interesting, no wonder the lord chose the middle of Val Royeaux as a playground. The two duelist circled each other like vultures.

                “It’s a pity our introduction will not last much longer. Before we duel, I trust you find the weapon to your satisfaction?”

                “I trust that you made this a fair fight, Lord Otranto?”

                “Upon my honor,” he twirled his weapon. “Shall we begin?”

                The Inquisitor nodded, but said nothing. The Lord engaged first, confident yet it could be his downfall. The swords clanked together as the elf went on the defensive, trying to plan a way not to fatally harm the man. Perhaps she could somehow cut his pants with the rapier so that they would fall down…

                “An admiral start, inquisitor!”

                An admiral start, indeed. The elf surged forward in an attempt to switch her defense into offense. More flashy swordplay ensued.

                “I assume your elven clan stumbled upon a practice sword in the woods,” he quipped.

                Maker did I come here to chat or duel? Thought Lavellan. The chatty man planned to distract her with insults, but it wouldn’t work. She’s had dragons screech in her ears before, a few pathetic lies wouldn’t sway her abilities. He walked forward, his weapon pointed straight at her more of a power-show than anything.

                She couldn’t believe that the Montilyets chose this ridiculous man as a husband.

                “I’m glad Lady Montilyet isn’t here, exquisite as I hear her appearance to be.”

                Lavellan wrinkled her nose in anger. Now she’ll definitely have to prevent herself from killing the man out of rage. They drew close, grabbing each other’s elbows and crossing blades. With the closer view, the inquisitor could see that the man was sweating out of fear. She smirked at this, she was winning this display of testosterone and she didn’t even have the parts for it. His strange brows furrowed as he spat another insult. “Cutting you down inform of Josephine would’ve given a poor first impression of House Otranto to my bride.”

                The elf bit the inside of her cheek in a second attempt to douse the flame the man was kindling. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to tell Josephine you fought bravely.”

                “I admire your fearlessness. But you cannot hope—“

                A strong voice sprung from the audience. “Stop!” It was Josephine’s. She shoved her way to the front of the crowd.

                “Josephine!” Lavellan’s stomach sank.

                “Lady Montilyet! What a pleasure to—“Began the Lord, but he was cut off with Josephine walking right passed him and up to the elf.

                She shook a finger at the Inquisitor. “What are you _doing_?!”

                “Josephine, I can’t take the chance that you might have you marry him,” The elf pleaded. She knew that she was in deep water with the Lady.

                She shook her head. “That’s not your decision.”

                The Herald looked like a child being chastised. Her shoulder’s hunched up and looking up from her eyelids. “I—“

                “The Inquisition needs you. _I_ need you! You threw yourself into danger!”

                “I’m sorry Lady Montilyet, but I have already thrown myself into danger countless times for the Inquisition. Ever since the explosion at the Conclave? Fighting demons, dragons, bandits? A duel may be the least threatening thing to my life yet.”

                “A dragon? You’re comparing a savage beast that knows little of combat to a highly trained nobleman! Why do this? Why risk everything we’ve built? Why risk your life?”

                “Because I love you!” Tears started to form in the Inquisitor’s eyes as she threw out the confession. The rapier fell to the ground with a clank.

                “You…you do?” She asked, dropping her angry tone.

                “Yes Josephine. I love you so much.”

                “I love you, too.” The woman smiled and ran at her knight in shining armor, just like an Antivan princess. There was a twirling embrace and a passionate kiss very similar to the ones told in ancient tales.

                Lord Otranto unsheathed his sword before the two ladies. He addressed the Inquisitor, “Well fought.”

                “Lord Otranto—“Josephine began.

                “I’d assumed your liaison with the inquisitor was an affair of passion or convenience, Lady Montilyet. But I’m not fool enough to stand in the way of true affection. The Otrantos regretfully withdraw the terms of our betrothal.

                “Thank you,” said Lady Montilyet.

                “Do not thank me. I know when I’m outmatched.” He bowed and took his leave.

                The two lovers faced each other again. “I can’t imagine a better ending. But wouldn’t you me impressed by a dueling scar?”

                “My dearest, I love you precisely the way you are, just do kiss me again.”

                “Who am I to refuse an Antivan princess?” The elf leaned in to place a long kiss on the lips of her lover. The Herald was shocked when Josephine’s tongue met her’s mid-kiss. A fluttering feeling was unleashed from where stones were once held in the elf’s stomach. A small laugh was shared once the kiss was finished. “Now, what of your parents?”

                “Oh no, I completely forgot about them!” Josephine said and then covered her mouth with her palm.

                “Will they be mad?”

                “I’m not entirely sure.”

                The inquisitor took Josephine’s hands in her own and gave her a reassuring smile. “We can get through this, I know it.”


	3. Plans and Demands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Montilyets seem to be welcoming toward the female Dalish Inquisitor, but their interrogation takes a surprising turn while they discuss her interests over lunch at their estate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Dalish Elf, Sacred, Xan, and Xenalovesgabby for commenting and providing me with the motivation to finish this piece. Seriously, you guys rock!

            In the months following the duel with Lord Otranto, Josephine had written several letters back to her home. In fact, one of the letters that she actually showed the Inquisitor was one of Yvette’s. The elf had smirked when Josephine told her that she shouldn’t have encouraged her about their relationship at the Winter Palace. Her sister was so charming though, Lavellan had confessed that she would probably be the favorite of Josephine’s relatives.       

One of the first letters that was sent included an immediate explanation of what occurred at Val Royeaux. She said that her parents replied in a slightly crossed tone as to why their daughter would choose a Dalish she-elf instead of an Antivan nobleman such as Otranto. There had been a calm reply from their daughter involving explanations that included how the Inquisitor personally saw to it that the Montilyet trading in Orlais was restored and how she was able to hunt down the old family crest. Josephine expressed that Otranto would not have done those things without expecting compensation when the Inquisitor volunteered her time and energy—for free—for the good of the Montilyets. In the last letter they exchanged, Josephine’s parents seem to calm down when they were reminded of Lavellan’s generosity and requested that they are introduced to her soon which brings us to a busy morning in Skyhold.

            Soldiers were training and everyone else were moving about on the fortress’s grounds ever since the golden glow of the sun’s rays touched the face of the mountains.  Surprisingly it wasn’t the Inquisitor that wished to be out there alongside everyone this morning, it was the Ambassador herself. She paced in front of her love who sat on a wooden chair. Lavellan’s eyes followed the woman in gold.

            “Right, so we’ve gone over basic etiquette and charm, I’ve told you what and what not to say about your clan, now my father is more of a wild card so be careful if he—“

            “If he starts to pry on any information involving me or us.” The Inquisitor stood and placed her hands on Josephine’s shoulders to stop her pacing. “I know Josie, we’ve been over this for _weeks_ now. You act as if your family will be harder than The Game.”

            “You have no idea.” She said, biting her lip nervously. “You’re right. They will probably love you,” she sighed. “Maker knows Yvette already thinks of you as a sister. Speaking of which she sent another letter…” Josephine stepped over her desk and pulled an envelope from her drawer.

            Lavellan smiled. “Actually, they’re hardly letters at all. We exchange drawings. See? Look.”

            “Oh,” Lady Montilyet placed a hand on her chest. The parchment revealed a sketch of the estate’s gardens and sparked a strong wave of homesickness in Josephine’s person.

            “Since you told her that it would be fruitless for her to spend time in Skyhold, I’ve been sending her sketches of any interesting scenery here. In return she sends me ones of your estate and drawing tips, of course. I’m nowhere as good as she is.”

            “I didn’t know you had an artistic side.”

            “It’s mainly what I did when I was with my clan. I would go out and restore a lot of the Dalish drawings out in the wilds. It was out there I learned a lot about art and defending myself. I didn’t fit in that well with my clan, so it was nice to get away from it all.”

            Josephine hummed and pet the elf’s hair. “Thank you, Lavellan. You seem to have calmed me for now.”

            “Anything for you, my dear. Shall we go?”

             She took a deep breath and nodded. “We mustn’t keep the horses waiting.”

           

            When they got there, it was Josephine’s sister that met them eagerly at the gates of the Montilyet Estate. She skipped alongside them as the horses walked on. “It’s great seeing you again, Inquisitor! It’s been so long since the Winter Palace. Did you get my sketch before you left?”

            “It’s great seeing you, too, Yvette. I did get it actually, you’ll have to show me the real gardens so I can compare.” The elf retrieved the paper from an inner breast pocket and showed the envelope to her. The young Antivan’s eyes sparkled and she smiled in response.  
            “Oh, Josephine mother and father are waiting. They plan to give a tour and chat, then a lunch with just the three of you.” She turned back to the Inquisitor and her horse. “Promise me you’ll tell me juicy details?”

            “Naturally, Lady Yvette,” she said, bowing her head.  
            “Must you encourage her?” Josephine whispered. Lavellan only chuckled in response.

 

            The Montilyet’s estate was clearly based off of older Antivan style. It was squarish with clay roofing and foliage all around it. Lush green vines grew up some of the siding and other foliage surrounded the grounds. Behind the building was a patio and the gardens and beyond those were steps leading down to Railto Bay. The whole estate was old yet still exquisite.

            The two dismounted their horses in front of the mansion’s entrance. Josephine’s sister was polite enough to take the two horses from them and lead them to the stables. Soon after that, Josephine’s parents walked out the front door to greet them. Her mother all but ran up to her daughter and gave her a tight squeeze.

            “Darling how great it is to see you! Your father and I have missed you so much.”  
            “And I, you mother.” Josephine squeezed back, inhaling her mother’s familiar perfume scent.

            “I’m glad to see that the stresses of the Inquisition’s goals haven’t gotten to you, Jose,” Her father said warmly.

            “Have my brothers been behaving?” Josephine inquired.

            Her dad laughed. “Hardly. You know them, Josephine. Sometimes I doubt their related to us Montilyets at all.” Everyone had a small chuckle. He turned to the elf. “You must be the Inquisitor we’ve heard so much about, not _just_ from Josephine, no doubt.” He was implying that he’s held an ear out for many of the countless rumors that sprung up the second the Inquisition was declared. “There are strange words being whispered about the Inquisition, but we know that Josephine wouldn’t involve herself in most of the things spread about the marketplace. She has too kind of a heart for that, and from what I’ve read, you seem to as well.”

            “Th-thank you Lord Montilyet,” Lavellan placed her arm across her chest and bowed to the couple.

            “Oh come now, there’s no need for such formalities, darling,” spoke her mother. However, Josephine had told her earlier that to keep the etiquette up no matter what her parents told her during their visit.

            “Well, since we’re all outside I suppose we could tour part of the grounds. Is that alright with everyone?” The father grinned. It wasn’t often that he got to show off his land.

            “Lead the way, Lord Montilyet.”

            The walk around the grounds was pleasant until they reached the bay side of the house. The sky darkened and it looked as if it would rain.

            “Yves, dear, I do believe I felt a drop,” his wife held a hand out to the sky.

            It’s a shame, they had just started talking about what the Inquisitor did when she lived with her clan. “Well, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut the grounds tour short, but it means that lunch will come sooner.” The father patted his belly and escorted his wife inside. Josephine and Lavellan lagged behind a little to exchange a few private words.

            “You’re doing fantastic,” she whispered.

            “All thanks to your convincing letters. I think your father has something up his sleeve though…”

            Josephine giggled. “We Montilyets always do.”

            The family and the Inquisitor regrouped upstairs and began to work their way down. Eventually, they happened onto Josephine’s room. The Inquisitor was greeted with a tidy room filled with just as many frills as were on Josephine’s outfit. The bed had a lovely golden colored canopy over it and there was an intricate writing desk in the corner of the room. Those weren’t the main display of her bedroom, though. Josephine had an intricate display of dolls filled the top of her dresser.

            “Oh no,” Josephine whispered under her breath. Her dolls! She should have packed her dolls before she left.

            “You have quite the collection, Josephine,” the elf walked over to the dresser for a better look. Some dolls were posed and they all looked so lifelike.

            “She started collecting them ever since her aunt got her one as a gift when she was a little girl.” Her mother said fondly.

            Josephine blushed deeply and began to fidget. She remembered that her sister had spilled the beans to the Inquisitor at the Winter Palace, but she didn’t think that Lavellan would be seeing them so soon, she was so self-conscious about them now that she was older.

            “I love them they look as if you care about them a lot, Josephine,” said the elf, knowing how much the porcelain cherubs meant to her.

            The other took a sigh of relief as they exited the room. She actually linked her arm with the Inquisitors as a way to thank her for seeing passed her hobby and not for playing it out to be a childish behavior. The elf was a tad surprised at the physical contact in front of her parents, but she smiled back at her love.  
            Before they headed to the ground floor, Josephine’s father directed them to the room that the Inquisitor would be staying in for the night. The room was a comfortable looking guestroom, having a bookcase filled with all sorts of books to entertain all kinds of tastes. The Herald thanked them again for their hospitality.

 

            The small group sat down for lunch. Trays of food and drink came out almost immediately as they sat down, once the servants retired back to the kitchens, Josephine’s father began to speak.

            “Now, I don’t mean to spoil your lunch with a heavier subject, but I seem to think better on a full stomach, Lavellan. I do have a few questions for you.”

            The elf was in mid-sip of a cold mug of juice as he was speaking. She set the cup down gently before replying. “By all means then, ask away.” Her tone was welcoming and she met Yves’s eyes as she spoke. She was confident, but Josephine placed her hand on the elf’s knee as if she were worried.

            “Do you plan on marrying my daughter, Inquisitor?” His words were blunt. In all honestly, she was glad he cut to the chase.

            Lavellan glanced at Josephine who also was expecting an answer. “Of course I do, I love Josephine.”

            “Right,” he said. “ _When_ do you plan on marrying her?”

            Josephine began to answer for her but quickly realized that her parents were waiting on the Lavellan’s answer. She wondered what the elf would say, they hadn’t talk about betrothal at all.

            “Well,” began the elf. “I imagine that it would be after all of this Inquisition business, but I was actually hoping to court Josephine properly before any such talk of an engagement.”

            Her father’s eyes sparkled in approval but his other features gave nothing else away.

            A courtship? Thought Josephine. Her eyes watered and she smiled up at the woman sitting beside her.

            Josephine’s mother spoke this time. “What about preserving the family lineage when you do get married?”

            The Ambassador almost choked on her drink.

            Lavellan turned to Josephine as she spoke. “We haven’t really discussed much of marriage or children yet. We’ve been focused on our duties lately, but if you and ultimately Josephine would happen to want children, then there’s most certainly something that we could work out.”           

            “So you wouldn’t mind a surrogate father? Or even one of our sons for you to bear the child instead—“

            “Father! Is that really necessary at the lunch table?” Josephine groaned, placing her hand on her forehead.

            “I just want to know that we have options and stability, dear.”

            Josephine gave a little huff, but otherwise maintained composure. The Inquisitor placed her hand over Josephine’s. “Lord Montilyet, I would do anything for Josephine to be happy and I would gladly do everything I possibly can to have the Montilyet household stay vibrant and strong for as long as you will have me.”

            “You have proven much of yourself already, Inquisitor. You’ve brought back honor to my name and even restored the family crest. I know I may be asking a lot of you at this moment, but you seem to understand my concerns while also having my daughter’s best interests in mind. I can only say that I wish my sons had your character.” He sighed. “Can you forgive an old man and accept his welcoming embrace into this Antivan family?”

            “S-ser,” The Inquisitor’s eyes widened in shock. “Of course. Thank you so much.” Josephine gave an excited squeak which stole the elf’s attention. “Josie, love, I am just as excited of your parent’s approval as you are, but I cannot feel my fingers anymore.”   
            “Oh! Sorry.” She giggled and touched her forehead to the Herald’s. Who knew that a giant breach in the sky would eventually bring this Antivan princess so much happiness and excitement?


End file.
